The pizza has arrived and we’re sitting on the couch, box between us, two-liter at our feet.
“Do you have any napkins?”
A blank look comes across my face. Napkins?
“Paper towels maybe?”
“Ummmm, no…” I’m not making a great impression on this first date. I need to get the man something to wipe his hands on after eating greasy Papa John’s pizza.
“Oh!” I jump off the couch and run back through the hallway, into the back room, the junk room. Ahh, yes, this will work.
“Here you go.” I plunk down a box of shop towels next to the two-liter of Coke. I’m quite proud of my find.
He pauses for a moment and just looks at me. Then he smiles and takes one and we eat.
The wedding is upon us. I arrive home, with a few moments to myself. On the kitchen counter: blue shop towels and a note, “In case you don’t have something used and something blue…”.
Tears well up in my eyes. It was by far the best wedding present he could have bought me. And it was my something blue (and used).
And by far, my favorite memory of the the wedding week.
